


when you say those words to me

by wistfulwatcher



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Masturbation, Phone Sex, reference to fisting, reference to marking, reference to power dynamics, reference to voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 09:30:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4095874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wistfulwatcher/pseuds/wistfulwatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“So,” Raven continues,  “what would we be doing if I’d stayed in bed?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>A small shiver runs up her spine and she knows her voice is just a touch on the raspy side when she replies, “You know what I’d be doing.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The radio crackles a moment like Raven is going to talk, and then stops.  “Tell me."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	when you say those words to me

_“Dr. Sexy, come in Dr. Sexy.”_  
  
Abby purses her lips at the sound of the radio crackling on beside her. She has a fuzzy memory of Raven telling her she was leaving it before she went out on the call this morning, though to be honest she remembered the accompanying kiss much better than her words.

Licking her lips, Abby looks up from her desk to scan the still-empty lab, cheeks heating just a bit with the ridiculous title. “Hello, Raven,” she smiles as she picks up the radio. Leaning back in her chair, she flips her hair away from her neck. “How was your trip?”

_“Long,”_ she groans, and Abby can picture her sitting down carefully on a rock, her bad leg extended to relieve some of the pressure. (Abby still feels the smallest twinge of guilt at the thought.) _“And lonely,”_  she teases, and they both know Raven doesn’t mind the solitude; that any other set of hands just gets in her way usually.

“Lonely, huh?” Abby smiles, and lets go of the talk button a moment before adding, “You know you wouldn’t be alone if you’d stayed in bed with me, like we’d planned.”

_“Don’t remind me,”_ Raven groans, and Abby’s lips relax into a softer, sweeter kind of smile. They’ve all been running over camp for the past several weeks trying to get things up and running, which means they’ve had so little time to themselves since they began their _whatever-this-is_ (as they both agreed a lack of label was appropriate for now).

“Mmm,” Abby murmurs, and bites her lip to stop from pushing for the next thought she has. Instead, she asks, “Why did Sinclair need you to go today? I must not have been awake enough when you left.”

_“There’s a surprise,”_ Raven laughs, and Abby feels her chest start to tighten. It’s casual, this thing between them, but sometimes things get so comfortable and domestic that it throws her, a little. She doesn’t exactly dislike it.

_“An expedition team is heading out here to the Tesla station wreckage to pick up supplies tomorrow—including the mainframe—but I told them they shouldn't transport it until I’d gotten the delicate bits put back together,”_ she explains, and Abby can picture her saying it, the way her head tilts, her hand gestures.

“You need an apprentice, so you can send them to do these things for you.” Abby teases, and it’s an empty thought because she knows Raven well enough now to know she would never delegate something like this; Raven’s a bit of a control freak, and Abby feels her breath start to come quicker as she thinks about getting Raven to give up that control.

_“Yeah,”_ Raven scoffs into the radio, and Abby swallows as she adds, _“that’ll happen.”_

“If you have an apprentice you could still be in bed with me,” Abby says, voice low, and she looks around the empty lab to be sure she’s alone. People in the camp know they’re together, but neither have been particularly open about their relationship, especially now that Clarke is back.

Not to mention the fact that Abby’s heating just at the thought of being back in her rooms with Raven. With her naked and writhing and open, like she should be.

_“Well, when you put it like that,”_ Raven trails off, and Abby licks her lips. _“I take it you’re missing me, Dr. Griffin?”_

“Of course,” her response is automatic, and she hopes it’s OK, hopes her desire to be around Raven, to be near her as often as she’s finding out she wants to be, isn’t too much for this thing they are.

Abby realizes she’s left her thumb on the button to talk, and she lets go immediately.  _“—ame here, Abby.”_ She lets out a small breath, and this is dumb, she’s acting far younger than her age with how nervous she gets about this, about _feelings_ , but this thing with Raven is new and tentative and a lot of her anxiety comes from the simple fact that she isn’t quite sure what she wants out of this, either.

_“So,”_ Raven continues, _“what would we be doing if I’d stayed in bed?”_

Abby starts to laugh, and when she presses the button to talk she smiles over her words. “We’re not doing this Raven. Get back to work so you can come back here and I can show you.”

_“Not doing what? I’m just asking, Abby,”_ and there is so much faux innocence in her voice that Abby has to bite the inside of her lip to suppress the smile (not that anyone would see it anyway). _“And just sitting in what's left of the control room, waiting for some parts to set,”_ she adds, and Abby’s smile fades a bit at how tired she sounds; she’s been working too hard, of course.

“We’re on an Ark radio, do you know how many people in camp have one now?” Abby asks, smiling on her question.

_“Of course I do, Abby, I made most of them. But ours are set on a separate channel. Far from the one the guards are using.”_ Abby hesitates, and then Raven’s voice comes through again. _“You know I’d be back there already if I could.”_  Her words aren’t anything profound, but the meaning is heavy, edges at the importance of their relationship, something they haven’t talked about.

A small shiver runs up her spine and she knows her voice is just a touch on the raspy side when she replies, “You know what I’d be doing.”

The radio crackles a moment like Raven is going to talk, and then stops. _“Tell me,”_ Raven says, finally, and Abby feels her cheeks start to heat, her heart start to beat a little faster, her mouth get dry.

This is new, for them together, likely for either of them alone. And the thought of that, of being the first person to talk to Raven this way, to try this with her, makes her swallow,  _hard_. Abby’s thumb hesitates on the call button, and she looks once more to the door. They don’t have locks, not until they get the security system back online, and the thought that anyone can walk in, it adds a level of danger.

One that has Abby growing wetter, has her shifting in her office chair. She presses the call button and says, “I’d kiss the back of your neck.” It’s nothing much, a mild start, but it’s true; with Raven in her arms, she wouldn’t be able to resist the slender nape, the delicate curve.

_“Is that all?”_ Raven’s voice is raspy, too, she can tell she’s not the only one affected so much so soon, and it makes her bolder.

“No.” Abby licks her lips and puts her free hand on the arm of the chair. Curls her fingers over the armrest. “I’d pull you back against me, and rest my hand on your stomach. I’d spread my fingers out to span your skin, and press against you.” She hesitates, and then, “I’d run my tongue up to that sensitive spot beneath your ear and I’d nip at it.”

She lets go of the call button like she’s been burned, a little shocked at how easily a description is tumbling from her lips. At how real the image feels, how she can remember the way Raven responds beneath her touch.

_"You’d almost break the skin,”_ Raven says over the line, and Abby’s breath catches. Because her kisses, her _marks_ , are deep and dark and she worries sometimes that it’s too much. But the way Raven says it now, it alleviates some of her worry. _“You’d scrape your teeth over my neck and_ bite _.”_

“Yes,” Abby breathes out, and she wants Raven back now. Wants her spread out on their bed, wants her knees up around Abby’s waist and her wrists pinned to the sheets under Abby’s grip and the hollow of her throat just _there_ , waiting for Abby.

_“Tell me what you’d do next, Abby.”_

“I’d slide my leg between yours, and pull you back closer to me. Have you straddle my thigh, and let my fingers brush down over the dip between your hips.” There’s silence on the other end when Abby lets go of the button, and she can hear how shallow her breath is becoming. “Raven,” she presses the talk button again, “Would you be wet for me?”

The radio crackles. _“I always am,”_ she says, and for the first time since they’ve started this Raven sounds a little shy. Abby can picture her even better now, eyes half-lidded as she lets Abby’s hands trail over her body, down and down until her fingers are sliding through the wetness there.

“Are you wet for me now?”

“Yes.” It’s becoming warm, too warm in the lab, and Abby should really head back to her rooms if they’re going to continue this. _“I can feel myself through my jeans,”_  Raven adds, and all of Abby’s plans to move are gone.

Instead she sets the radio down, shrugs out of her lab coat and her long-sleeved pullover, until she’s down to a plain white tank top. _“Abby?”_ the radio comes on again, and Abby can’t help but smirk at the heavy tone of Raven’s voice.

She should end this, tell Raven to hurry up and come home because she wants her, wants to be able to actually touch her more than ever. Abby picks up the radio again, and shifts in her chair, letting her knees fall apart. “Are you touching yourself, Raven?”

_“Are you?”_ She asks back quickly, and Abby just smirks. Lets Raven’s question hang because they both get off on her being in control. Finally, Raven asks,  _“Do you want me to?”_

“Yes,” Abby licks her lips, and she moves her hand from the armrest to her thigh, lets it rest there a moment. “Tell me what you feel like.”

Abby slides her fingers over her thigh, down to her knee, and back up until she’s skirting the seam of her pants. _“The jeans are thick but I can feel my heat.”_ Raven’s movements must be mirroring hers, she realizes, and presses against the thick denim until she can feel the pressure on her clit.

She closes her eyes at the sensation. “No. I want you to touch yourself, Raven.” She lets go of the button and shifts her hips to get more pressure against herself. “Take your jeans and shorts off and really _touch yourself_ for me.”

Abby lets go of the button again but isn’t expecting a response. Instead she just leans back in the chair until she can feel it support her back, and spreads her own legs farther. “Tell me how wet you are.”

_“Shit, Abby,”_  Raven gives a little chuckle but it’s thick and it’s dark and Abby knows if she could see her, if she could touch her, her fingers would be coated in Raven’s arousal.

“How many fingers would I be able to slip inside you?” she asks, and her own question makes her breath catch. It’s likely audible before she lets go of the radio but she doesn’t care; the power play between them is a game, Raven knows as much as she does how desperate Abby is for her touch.

Truthfully, it’s half the fun, the pretending.

“Could you take two?” Abby asks, and pops open the button on her own jeans.

_“Easily,”_ she replies haughtily, and Abby bites her lip.

“Alright, three, then? Would I stretch you with three of my fingers? Push them inside you and spread them out, curl them up and watch your back arch because you want more?”

The radio crackles but then cuts dead again, and Abby can see it, see Raven spread as much as she dares alone in the remnants of the Ark, with her own fingers slipping through her lips and over her clit and inside where Abby so desperately wants to be.

Sliding down her zipper, Abby presses her own fingers into her jeans. She brushes over the front of her panties once, feels how wet they are, how slick she is even through the fabric, and lets her head fall back as she pictures Raven between her legs; fingers gripping her thighs and keeping her apart as she licks Abby’s slit with long strokes, a sure tongue, and those beautiful eyes, so dark.

“Or are you wet enough for four, Raven? Do you need all four of my fingers inside you? Is that why you can’t wait until you get back here, you need me that badly?” She tries to be deprecating about it, play into the role, but she can’t; her voice betrays how desperate she is, too.  

Abby doesn’t let go of the radio, just adds, “Or would you want even _more_ , Raven?” Their relationship is new, they haven’t tested many boundaries yet, but they keep pushing their limits, keep wanting more from the other, and Abby swallows hard at the thought of Raven being so open and wet and wanting to take all of Abby inside her.

When she does let go of the button she hears, “Fuck, _Abby, yes_ ,” and she can see her again, leaned back on her elbow, fingers pale from her grip on the radio, and Abby pushes past her own panties to run her fingers over her clit.

“Or,” Abby breathes out, and her breath catches as she adds pressure, tilts her hips and starts to grind against herself. “Maybe you want my mouth instead.”

_“Yes,”_  Raven says into the walkie, but she sounds far away. Abby’s breath catches as she thinks about her having to turn her head, writhing against cool metal, her pants pushed down and her shirt rucked up, maybe one hand gripping the firm flesh of her breast. _“I want your mouth, Abby.”_

“And my tongue? You want to sit on my face and let me lick through those wet folds, Raven?” And she knows the answer, knows the answer for both of them is _yes_ , _God, yes_ because Raven above her with those firm thighs for her to hold, to dig her nails into is something they’ve done many times now.

Abby is getting forgetful, getting lost in her thoughts and she lets go of the radio button as she stills her fingers against her clit. When it cuts back to Raven she can hear her moaning, long and loud and Abby starts to move her own fingers faster. Her breath is becoming shallow and she’s got her eyes shut tight because she wants to see Raven like this, see her coming, feel her around her and not the empty lab.

_“I’m so close,”_ Raven adds, and then the radio stops and it’s silence so Abby pushes the button again.

“Are you going to come for me, Raven,” it’s an order more than a question, and her voice is deep, huskier than she expects it to be. “With my teeth against your skin and my hands on your hips, keeping you close to me?”

And that must do it, because when she lets go she hears a choked groan, pained in the best way, and it cuts off like Raven’s dropped the radio. Abby’s close herself, so close with just the memory, the thought of Raven unraveling around her.

But the lab is silent so suddenly and she feels the wrong kind of heat prickle at her neck because she’s realizing how _alone_ she is with her fingers pressed against her in a room at camp. _“Abby?”_ Raven’s voice cuts through again and it’s shaky. _“Please tell me what you’re doing, tell me you’re touching yourself.”_

“Yes,” she responds, and some of her bravado is gone, because as fun as this is she wants Raven to touch her instead. “But I wish it was you.”

_“I can almost head back.”_  It cuts off and then Raven asks, _“Where are you?”_

Abby tries to let Raven’s voice wash over her, tries to pay attention to the still-rough sound as she strokes herself. “In the lab.”

_“You couldn’t even make it back to your rooms,”_ she says and Abby can hear the smile. _“I guess I wasn’t the only one desperate. Keep touching yourself.”_ Abby does, she is, she’s still close from her words to Raven and her orgasm is just on the edges of her reach. _“Fuck yourself with your fingers, Abby, like I would. Like you want me to.”_

She does, again. She slips two fingers into her heat and rests the palm of her hand against her clit for pressure and she moans, and she thinks some of it goes through before she lets go of the talk button.

_“I know exactly what you’re doing, Abby, how you’re moving. I know how you like to touch yourself, how you need fingers and pressure and how you can’t keep your hips still.”_ Heat shoots up her spine at Raven’s words, at how well she knows her, knows her body.  _“I know how much it turns you on that I’ve seen you this way, over and over.”_

Abby fumbles for the button with her free hand while she starts pumping faster, harder. “Because you like to watch, Raven,” she says and bites her lip to stop the squeak when she curls her fingers just right.

_“Of course I do, I love to see you desperate and impatient and so wet it’s dripping down your thighs. Just like you love to know I’m watching, know my eyes are on you, don’t you, Abby?”_

Abby’s movements get jerky, she’s so, so close, and her nails brush against her sensitive skin too hard, the pressure is too much and then she’s coming around her own fingers, Raven’s name on her lips.

There are beads of sweat on her forehead, she can feel them start to slide down her temple, and she leans back in the chair farther, spent. “Raven,” she says shakily, not bothering to finish the thought before she lets go of the button.

_“I’m on my way, Abby,”_ and her voice is teasing but thick, and another thrill runs up Abby’s back as she thinks about the rest of their night.

“Hurry,” Abby teases back, and then sets the radio down on the desk. She’s been lucky, left alone this whole time but now she needs to clean herself up, make sure she’s presentable again so she can meet Raven at the gate.

* * *

“How was your trip?” Abby asks with a smirk, holding out a hand for the medical pack Raven had taken with as a precaution.

“Interesting,” Raven smiles back, and she holds up her radio. “Let me put this back with the others and we can get some dinner.”

Raven heads toward the garage, falling into step with Raven and she puts the medical bag over her shoulder. “Dinner?” she asks, and catches Raven smirking out of the corner of her eye.

“Yeah. You’re gonna need some energy for what I have planned, Dr. Griffin.” She turns her head toward Abby. "We have some images to follow through on."

Abby licks her lips and suppresses a smile as they pass by the others, sitting at a table outside of the dining hall. She hasn’t seen Clarke all day—she’s been fairly distant since her return—and she smiles at her daughter as they near.

The table quiets as she and Raven approach, and Clarke looks between them before standing up. The rest of the table—Bellamy, Octavia, Lincoln, and Monty—looks between them and Clarke, and Bellamy starts to stand, too.

“Please,” Clarke starts, and Abby catches sight of a radio in the center of the table. “Don’t _ever_ do that again.” She looks at both of them seriously, pure discomfort and disgust on her face, before she heads into the Ark.

Shame colors Abby’s cheeks, and Raven beside her looks a little stunned with the realization of what the others heard.

Before she can say anything, Octavia stands, and steps closer to both of them. Her eyes are sparkling a little and she's fighting a smile as she says, "Don't worry, she only heard about ten seconds." She looks between them, a little impressed, and lowers her voice to add, “And for the record, she does _not_ speak for the rest of us.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> from an anon prompt on tumblr: would you be into writing raven/abby phone sex? bc i feel like raven would simultaneously have the best pick up lines but also be really cheesy


End file.
